


Unspoken

by milestofu



Category: MindCrack RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1989861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milestofu/pseuds/milestofu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck between a place of silence and sound, there are no words exchanged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr on 05/07/14.

Pause sits back on his elbows, and as he watches Arkas’ silhouette place blocks in front of the too bright sun, he can’t help but wonder where Arkas has been this entire time. It’s not that Arkas has been hiding, no, but in Pause’s opinion he might as well have been.

With a sigh, Pause raises a hand in front of his face to shield his eyes from the sun, squinting to get a better look. Arkas is so high up on the wall that it’s difficult to make out what anything is because of the damn sun that isn’t helping at all.

Pause rises to his feet (taking a moment to brush off his pants and arms to rid himself of the stray strands of grass and smudges of dirt) and brings his hands up to cup either side of his mouth and―

"Arkas!" he calls out, his voice a familiar baritone that echoes through the still quiet of the afternoon. He watches as Arkas stops in his motions, turning to crane his neck and look down at him (and if the sun wasn’t shadowing his face, Pause would see his eyebrows are upturned). "It’s getting late and I’m hungry!"

It isn’t getting late.

In fact, it’s only going on 3:30, but god, if Pause isn’t bored out of his mind, he doesn’t know what boredom is. It’s too hot and sticky and all he wants to do is get indoors where it’s cool.

This is why he doesn’t build the large projects that Arkas is so fond of building―it requires too much effort. Or at least that’s what he likes to tell himself. Not that he doesn’t have the knack for building or anything… Nope.

Fuck him if he was ever going to admit that out loud, OK?

Arkas doesn’t say anything, however after a few moments of apparent contemplation, he appears to nod (or at least, that’s what Pause can gather through his burning retinas). Arkas disappears behind the wall and he climbs down the shoddy ladder he constructed on the other side.

It’s when Arkas walks out from behind the wall does Pause grin, throwing an arm around him, his hand rests on the small of Arkas’ back. Arkas smiles a little, brushing some of his dark hair that sticks to his forehead from the sweat.

Neither of them are sure what exactly this is―this lulled, subdued sense of… something. They don’t know what to call it (and perhaps they don’t want to put it into words), but it’s there.

It’s always in the background, coiling around their insides and it’s enough for Pause to grow annoyed with Beef and Etho’s teasing during recording sessions (fuck you guys, shut up). They’ll laugh and prod a little deeper, opening the festering wound and increasing Pause’s annoyance in the process, but that’s what friends are for, he supposes.

"Are you thirsty?" Arkas asks when they enter the shack he’s built not too far from his building project. It’s small and cluttered, but it’s tucked between jungle trees and the ocelots wandering outside keep Arkas company (at least, that’s what he says when asked).

Most importantly, however, it’s air conditioned. Praise be.

"Dude, are you kidding me? I’ve been sitting outside being cooked alive," Pause says sarcastically, moving away from Arkas and flopping down onto the small couch.

Arkas laughs under his breath and doesn’t say anything. After all, he’s always been one of few words. He fishes out a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and pours it into a glass, passing it to Pause.

Pause takes it from it him, drinking from the glass in large swigs, thankful to be indoors and out of the heat. Almost as an afterthought, Arkas sits down beside him. Pause finishes his drink, setting it down on the coffee table in front of the couch and pulls Arkas towards him after, whispering against the nape of his neck (Arkas smiles and as always, leans away, shy).

Pulling him closer, Pause’s hand settles on Arkas’ side, rubbing circles with the pads of his thumbs and presses his lips to warm skin. They don’t need words because Arkas always finds himself on his back, a warm sensation swelling in his gut as he arches upward, gasping into Pause’s touch as he kisses him, reassures him, fills him.

They don’t talk after and it probably stems from a place of embarrassment for both of them. They don’t need to say anything and they don’t need to confirm anything to anyone else despite the teasing they get in return because they’re just… them.

But it’s strange.

It’s strange because Arkas isn’t sure what this is or if he wants to know. He’s always been a private person, but with Pause, he feels so exposed. It’s as though Pause’s eyes see right through the awkward smiles because Pause will press his fingers to the corners of Arkas’ mouth, pushing upward until the smile is genuine.

"I’ll come back soon," Pause promises as he stands outside the shack.

Arkas knew he’d be leaving because there’s only so long he can stand being secluded in Arkas’ little carved out chunk of the world (he’s entirely too much of a social butterfly). However, Arkas can’t help but be a little upset that he’s leaving so soon.

 _It’s been a week_ , the voice in the back of his head is ever so kind to remind him.

He shouldn’t be upset, but he kind of, sort of is.

"Yeah, see you," Arkas replies, raising a hand and waving absently.

Pause doesn’t move, but he laughs, scratching the back of his neck and turns. Arkas doesn’t want him to go, he really, really doesn’t want him to go.

It feels like there’s a balloon in his chest filling with air, expanding and expanding and―

Arkas reaches out, grabbing onto Pause’s sleeve before he can begin his trek to spawn. Pause stops, turning to look at him, eyebrows raised. Arkas isn’t sure what to say; he doesn’t know what he’s doing, or why he’s doing it. Why did he―?

Pause gets it, though.

He understands, he knows. He knows like he always does when it comes to Arkas. He can read him like an open book.

Pause brings an arm to wrap around Arkas’ torso and pulls him closer, patting his back before saying, “If you wanted me to stay longer, all you had to do was ask.”

There’s a teasing lilt to his voice and Arkas laughs, but returns the hug (his one hand still holding onto Pause’s sleeve awkwardly, not wanting to let him go).

They teeter on the edge of something and something more. Putting words to something unspoken doesn’t feel right and that’s all there is to it, really.


End file.
